


A Friend In Need

by out_there



Category: West Wing
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-03-02
Updated: 2004-03-02
Packaged: 2017-10-07 15:50:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/66652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/out_there/pseuds/out_there
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Sam's innate fear of color has removed his ability to write."</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Friend In Need

Sam was sick of white. Sick of the blank white screen staring back at him. Sick of the empty pad of white paper lying on the desk. He was also sick of the regular sound of Toby's ball bouncing against their shared wall.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

It was almost regular enough to set his watch by. Fleeing the white of his office, Sam walked around the corner, and into Toby's. "Do you have to do that?"

Toby looked up at him. "Do what?"

"The ball thing."

Toby paused and stared at the ball in his hands. After a moment's reflection, he said, "Yes."

"Why?"

"Helps me concentrate," Toby said, as he threw it against the wall again.

"Well, it's not helping me."

"How are you going?" Toby looked up at him, then turned his attention back to the ball.

"Generally? Fine," Sam replied, watching the ball bounce across the room.

"No, on the farming thing."

"Not so good."

The ball stilled. "Why not?" Now he had Toby's full attention.

"I don't want to talk about it," Sam said as he collapsed into Toby's couch.

"It's the white thing again?"

"Yeah." Everybody had their own quirks. Toby bounced his ball; Sam complained about his office having too much white. As long as the speech in question got finished, neither complained too loudly about the other.

Josh stuck his head around the door. "Hey, I thought you guys were working on the farming thing...?"

"We are," Toby answered.

"Finished already?"

Sam just groaned.

"Didn't it need to done, like, today?" Josh looked a little concerned and very amused.

"Yes, Josh, it does need to be done today." And there went Toby's ball again.

"How come you're not working on it?"

"You know, writing isn't something always done on your own. Sometimes, you need other people. Conversation, rational discussion, brainstorming ideas," Sam said from his sprawled pose on the couch.

Josh smirked. "It's the white thing again?"

"Yeah," Toby replied. "Sam's innate fear of color has removed his ability to write."

Josh turned to stare at Sam. "I can't believe you're afraid of a color."

"Technically, white isn't a color," Sam said as he stood up. "But still, I'm not afraid of it. I'm just sick of it."

"Sure," Josh said doubtfully.

"Well, just to prove it I'll go back to my desk with my white screen and my white paper and write something."

"Good," said Toby.

"I just can't promise it'll be a good something," Sam added.

"Just leave my office."

"Okay, okay," said Sam as he walked back to his office and sat down with a sigh.

He wasn't frightened of it. It was just a pad of paper. He was slightly intimidated by that unbroken starkness, but he wasn't admitting defeat yet. He uncapped his pen, and started to write.

Then he proceeded to scribble over the sentence and write it again. Then got stuck, and went back, and rewrote it, and scribbled over again. Ripping out the page, he screwed it up, tossed it into his bin and tried to start again. He was still staring at the blank paper in front of him when Josh approached.

"Hey."

"Hey. What brings you here? Come to mock?" Sam asked with a smile.

"Nah. Too easy," Josh replied with a quick grin. "But I thought this might help." Josh handed him a pad of lined paper; a pad of yellow lined paper.

Sam laughed. "Thanks."

"Yeah, well, just helping out a friend." Josh looked at his watch. "I gotta go."

"Sure." Sam nodded distractedly as Josh left, then reached for his pen and started to quickly scribble, _'Just as we offer help to our friends...'_


End file.
